


letters to my love

by dimenovelcowboy



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, will update characters and stuff as this progresses! i dont have a plan so far
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimenovelcowboy/pseuds/dimenovelcowboy
Summary: jack writes his first letter to his soulmate
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	letters to my love

Jack pressed his pen to the paper, watching the ocean-dark ink feather out over the first line. He looped almost-circles around the splotch and added a stem, turning the mistake into a quick doodle of a flower. Appropriate for a first letter to his soulmate, he supposed. 

Next to the flower, in the best handwriting he had, Jack printed: 

_Dear_

He paused. Dear...who? He didn’t have a name to put to his soulmate. After a moment’s thought, he continued:

_Dear friend,_

Was “friend” right? He had never met the kid, how would he know if they would be friends?

It would be unfortunate if they couldn’t be friends. 

Considering they were supposed to be in love. 

Oh, shit. 

Jack scratched out the pair of words and stared at the paper. How do you start a letter to someone whose name you don’t know?

_Hi._

Okay. Okay, he started, that’s one step closer.

_Sorry about the scribbles, I couldn’t figure out how to start this. It’s insane, right? I guess once I get your letter back, I’ll have an initial to go on, that’ll make things easier. Anyways. Hey. I’m J. Love to tell you my full name, but I can’t, which is dumb because I have probably the most generic name in the world. You’d never find me off it._

The way soulmates worked was never something he could wrap his head around. What the hell was the point of having someone you’re literally magically predestined to fall in love with if you had to go through all of this to find them? The waiting until 16, the letters with no names or locations or anything that could help you find your soulmate...it was a mess. Once you started to connect, though, a mark would show up at the bottom of every letter, and you could draw that on your arm, so if you were lucky enough to meet your soulmate out of the blue one day, you could at least identify them.

He should probably write a little more. If he wanted to make that connection. 

_What are some of your favorites? Like, favorite books, favorite color, favorite song, that kind of stuff. I’ll start. My favorite color is that purple the sky turns after the sun sets, where it’s kinda orange and kinda blue, so it’s a really special purple. I don’t know if that makes sense._

This is a sucky way to make conversation. 

_Sorry if it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter all that much. Tell me about yourself :) If I can’t meet you for real, I have to find some way to get to know you, or this “being in love” thing is going to be rough. I hope you write back. That would end the soulmate search pretty quick, if you didn’t respond. Feel free not to, I guess, but I hope you do._

_Sincerely,_

That felt impersonal, somehow. Like he was ending an email to one of his teachers. God. 

He scribbled over it.

_Hope I get to write to you again,  
J._

He creases the letter into uneven thirds and slips it into the envelope, then peels the plastic strip off the glue and sticks the flap down. In giant capital letters on the front of the envelope, he prints “SOULMATE” and sets the envelope on his desk, just staring at it for a moment. He would leave it there, it would be gone come morning, whisked away by some unseen magic. 

If he gets a response, it’s from the person who’s supposed to be the love of his life, his other half, the one at the other end of his red string. He didn’t think too hard about that when he was writing, and he’s glad for that - this is more daunting than anything he could imagine. This is a real love letter. This isn’t a sheet of notebook paper jammed into the cracks in a locker, not a folded note passed around a classroom - this is a letter to his love.


End file.
